I have slipped this note under your door so you will read it when you come to wake up. Rapaire is making very off-colour jokes about you and MMario is sniggering at them. I know Rapaire likes to tell you how he loves you best of all, but it just is not true, and I do not want you to be fooled.

Hah! Foolish MOABites! You think you rescued your precious Mom from danger? Well, you are WRONG! The thread you rescued was an imposter planted by us, the Bandwidth Conservation Militia (BCM)! We are holding the real MOAB hostage and will release her when all bandwidth-wasting copycat threads and other stoopid and dumbass threads have been banned from this forum!

We strongly suggest that if you want to see your Mother again, you not only cease starting bandwidth-wasting threads yourselves, but convince other non-MOABite offenders (like Peace) to do likewise.

For verily it is written, oh vainglorious boasters, that all is BS in the Eye of Max, and from BS all is born in its time; and unto BS, all, yea even the most senisitive of threads, must return. Therefore doubt ye not that we know our Mother, for she is with us and we are in her. Let you go forth, then. from the people of MOAB unto the Puerilites, and the Shattites, unto the Hundredites and the Hullites, yeah even unto the Capoites who dwell above yon distant line, and unto all of them bring tidings of this truth.

I shall be happy to lend you some bandwidth, at interest of course. Compound interest. All I need is your name, address, bank account number, date of birth, social security numbers, and credit card(s) number(s). I need these to insure that you are really worthy of the loan of bandwidth.

We don' need no steenkin' bandwidth loan from the likes of you, Meester Raypeer! We don' borrow bandwidth, we take it. We take it from bandwidth wasters like you who start "Gelignite" threads and give it to people who use it the way it should be used!

Now, stop posting meaningless BS and stoopid, dumbass copycat threads or we'll do something drastic. Don't forget we've got your Mom. She's pretty comfortable where we've got her hidden, but we can move her to a Motel 6 on the west side of Indianapolis if you try to push us.

I wasn't offering to lend you any bandwidth. I wouldn't lend you any bandwidth if you came crawling on your scabby hands and knees, kissing at my feet with your pustulous lips and trying to lick the soles of my shoes clean with your putrescent tongue. As for you coming in a taking bandwidth, come on ahead you weak-kneed recreant ruffian unworthy of the powder needed to blow you to Hell, you poseur, you wannabee bandito too flimsy to use as bumwipe, you bombastic tumescent wart with a voice only dogs can hear -- when you return home I hope that your mother runs out from under the porch and bites you on the ear (assuming that she hasn't been taken up by the dogcatcher for mange).

I am so bummed. My whole pose as a savvy cyber-citoyen has been crumpled. The French newscast on recovering sound recordings from an ancient Pompeiian clay pot from 75AD was a fraud, an April Fool joke put together by a very talented short film director. All in French. I have seen through spam, skirted phishers, never been taken in by sex-wanted ads or E-Bay imitators or Nigerian multi-millionaires, but I am now undone. RUINED!

A JOKE!! A goddamned JOKE!!

I am disgusted!!!

ROFLMAO So now I have to shed my quietly superior air with which I send people links to Snopes.com. Now, I am amongst the unwashed ignorant!! Ah, woe, woe, I am undone!!! LOL!

It's okay, Amos. Anyone can get taken in. Just look at all the hoaxes that have taken in experts over the years -- the "Hitler Diaries" are an example. I wasn't taken in by the "talking pot" though. Not at all. Nope, not a bit, and that's the exact and complete truth.

But pots do talk! The talking process begins when the ball of clay is slammed down onto the potter's wheel. It usually says, "Ouch! Not so damned hard!" Then it will say something like, "I wanna be a teapot! Please, please, please! Can I be a teapot? Huh, huh, huh?" Sometimes the potter can say "Okay, you can be a teapot," but more often he'll have to say, "Sorry, but I've already got two dozen teapots for sale. You'll have to be a serving bowl." Then the ball of clay will usually say something like, "But I don't wanna be a serving bowl! Serving bowls are boring!" and the potter will have to get forceful with it and say, "Shut up, dammit, or I'll cut you into four pieces and make mugs out of your sorry ass!" That will usually get the reluctant ball of clay to cooperate, but every now and then a potter will be putting the finishing touches on a nice serving bowl when it will unexpectedly collapse for no apparent reason and he'll hear a faint voice coming out of the resulting blob saying. "Ninner, ninner, ninner! I told you I wanted to be a teapot!"

They purported to have recovered sound-frequency patterns from the micro-grooves of a beautiful Pompeiian pot, allegedly scribed unknowingly during the turning of it when they used a long stylus to etch grooves around the body of it. They even had a segment of sound recovered from those grooves. It was babel-esque, but you could make out chatter (eventhough it had mysteriously French rhythms to it) and someone laughing. I should have been instantly suspicious at the Frank-enstinian music of the voices, but I was lulled, gulled and beguiled by the idea of hearing a voice from ancient Pompeii. Just another Internet sucker, me. Sigh. My wife was enthralled and excited and we wondered how many other old shards had sound waves in them. Drying guano, or adobe, or other cementitious compounds, quivering to the rattle of Mongolian sabers, antique Enfields or Aztec shields clashing. And what it would have meant to linguistics! The mind reels. But, truth raises its ugly head, and all is rewound.

The magic of the possibility was very appealing, so I hope the laughter in the "shard" that you listened to wasn't a cruel laugh of a trickster.

Way back in my early Internet and email days I fell for that "use sunscreen" essay supposedly by Kurt Vonnegut. A friend told me it was a hoax, but I did read later that Vonnegut read it himself and thought it was pretty good. :)

I believe I saw Veronica Rutledge up at the Holt Arena, hanging out with the cowboys. I overheard her saying something about "rough riding" to a young guy, but I didn't stick around to find out more. It would have been nice though, I thought, if she was wearing something more than chaps, boots, and a tee shirt. The young guy didn't seem to mind, however.

Them cowboys do know Mizz Veronica's a few months shy of eighteen, don't they? Better be careful about puttin' their dusty ol' Acmes into that stirrup. Not that Mizz Veronica herself would cause any trouble, but if that aunt of hers, that Penelope woman, wuz to find out, them boys might be pickin' birdshot outta each other's backsides.

I dunno. Ol' Ronnie was holdin' their own, so to speak, when the local police came by. It ain't made the papers and probably won't, but I know the Chief over at the Cop Shop and what was goin' on was innerestin', I guess. I don't have all the details, but it involves quirts, saddle horns, and rough stock.

Radioastronomical studies have indicated that the magnetic field in the central few hundred parsecs of our Milky Way Galaxy has a dipolar geometry and a strength substantially larger than elsewhere in the Galaxy, with estimates ranging up to a milligauss1-6. A strong, large-scale magnetic field can affect the Galactic orbits of molecular clouds by exerting a drag on them, it can inhibit star formation, and it can guide a wind of cosmic rays away from the central region, so a characterization of the magnetic field at the Galactic center is important for understanding much of the activity there.

Here, we report Spitzer Space Telescope observations of an unprecedented infrared nebula having the morphology of an intertwined double helix.

This feature is located about 100 pc from the Galaxy's dynamical centre toward positive Galactic latitude, and its axis is oriented perpendicular to the Galactic plane. The observed segment is about 25 pc in length, and contains about 1.25 full turns of each of the two continuous, helically wound strands. We interpret this feature as a torsional Alfvén wave propagating vertically away from the Galactic disk, driven by rotation of the magnetized circumnuclear gas disk. As such, it offers a new morphological probe of the Galactic center magnetic field. ...

I give up. People just gotta keep on discovering new confusing stuff. Now there's a double-helix of stars and dust right near the black hole at the center of the galaxy!! It's getting so a man can't even hear himself think around here!!

Hey, MOM, I'm beginning to feel almost human again. It's a little too soon to get out tripping the light fanastic for St. Pat's day, but at least I can breathe and go for a few minutes without coughing!

The reason way any three MOABites are always in synch is explained at the quantum level:

"An international team of physicists has converted three normal atoms into a special new state of matter whose existence was proposed by Russian scientist Vitaly Efimov in 1970.

In this new state of matter, any two of the three atoms--in this case cesium atoms-- repel one another in close proximity. "But when you put three of them together, it turns out that they attract and form a new state," said Cheng Chin, an Assistant Professor in Physics at the University of Chicago.

Chin, along with 10 scientists led by Rudolf Grimm at the University of Innsbruck in Austria, report this development in the March 16 issue of the journal Nature. The paper describes the experiment in Grimm's laboratory where for the first time physicists were able to observe the Efimov state in a vacuum chamber at the ultracold temperature of a billionth of a degree above absolute zero (minus 459.6 degrees Fahrenheit).

This new state behaves like the Borromean ring, a symbol of three interlocking circles that has historical significance in Italy. The Borromean concept also exists in physics, chemistry and mathematics.

"This ring means that three objects are entangled. If you pick up any one of them, the other two will follow. However, if you cut one of them off, the other two will fall apart," Chin said. "There is something magic about this number of three."

The Innsbruck experiment involved three cesium atoms, a soft metal used in atomic clocks, formed into a molecule that manifested the Efimov state. But in theory the Efimov state should apply universally to other sets of three particles at ultracold temperatures. "If you can create this kind of state out of any other type of particle, it'll have exactly the same behavior," Chin said. "

This is not, of course, a new state of matter to those of us who have been posting here all along. It is just science catching up with BS.

Having squat is worse than having nothing. You see, if you have nothing and then get rid of it, you don't have nothing, which is a double negative and, hence, a positive. If you don't have nothing* then it follows that you must have something. But, if you have squat and get rid of it, it makes no difference because having squat and not having squat are the same thing.

* "Don't have nothing" should not be confused with "don't got nothing" which is an important lyrical component of many blues songs.

Bruce, I bet that fool woman who went out in public and coughed on me in the elevator in the library LEFT the library and traveled to Floribama and coughed on you. (I sure hope you DON'T have this d***ed bug, because it has already made the last 10 day miserable, and it feels like there are a couple more days to go.) 5 days of complete laryngitis (not a squeak!) and now a full-fledged sinus infection. I've been very careful to not get close to anyone, including my children and even my ex so no one else catches this. And yesterday I washed my keyboard with Diet Rite cola to prevent it's spreading via my computer (which is why I'm using the spare keyboard now and the egronomic one is still drying out before I try it again. . .)

Frankly, Amos, as lousy as I feel I just don't give a damn if it's reflexive, demonstrative, subjunctive or a bloody gerund.

The phone rang a little bit ago -- a woman was calling Pat for tickets to the Quilt Show luncheon and the show. Pat was floored when she got the address -- the PO box was 4906; we're 4905. Perhaps we'll have a block party or something when the weather gets nice.

I had a cocktail that worked, more or less, with motrin for pain, tessalon (sp?) pearls for the cough, and at bedtime, tylenol-3 to further supress the cough and help me sleep. An expectorant (bought in the gallon economy size at Walmart, one of the few reasons I'll go to that store) helped, and in the last few days, the amoxil.

Don't plan to go to participate in any international sporting competitions any time soon (curling, perhaps?), you won't pass the blood test.

Lessee...hyrdrocodone tonight at bedtime, T3 now, Rhinocort, saline nasal spray, Amoxicillin (1,000 mg 2 x day), Atrovent.... Now, a good old stiff bourbon or scotch and my CNS will be so depressed...but then I could just take Paxil or one of those things. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!

I passed on the hydrocodone. That's heavy duty, more than was called for with a cold. I have some left from after my bunion surgery, and even then I only took it a couple of times. You want to be alert enough to be able to tell if you're still sick or if you're getting better. :)

I don't like taking drugs, especially narcotics. I have too much to do with my life to spend time spaced out. Which is why I will take the hydrocodone before bed. Last night the T3 didn't do it; I spent much time awake coughing, coughing to the point where Pat offered to take me to the Emergency Room. But I'll do what I need to so that I can get some rest. (The hydrocodone is left over from recent oral surgery. And I will NOT take more than 500 mg. I once had the 750 mg capsules and I was wiped out for two days.)

I have a recliner for times like this. Sleeping propped up is no fun, but if it makes the difference between lying down and coughing or sitting up and sleeping, it's worth it.

I forgot to mention the 12-hour decongestant (Duratuss) and the Allegra that are part of this regimen--it's allergy season now. The Tessalon capsules (called "pearls") are called generically Benzonatate (both are given in 200mg capsules) and they help diminish the power of the tickle. It may be why I can get away with the T-3 instead of the heavier stuff. You're supposed to be careful not to bite or chew these capsules or you're restricted from eating or drinking for several hours because they paralyse some throat muscles. (I get the impression that they disolve in your stomach and the fumes work upward or something. ??

Mom had better put a big pot of chicken soup on. The heavy duty kind that Martha Stewart makes, where she puts two chickens in the pot, takes one out after about 40 minutes and debones it and cuts it up to add to the stock. After a couple of hours all of the solids (including the second chicken) are removed from the stock and thrown away. The first chicken is added back as are some veggies. Mmmmm!

The Google ads at the bottom have to do with sinus infections and coughs. I guess they picked upon the topic of the moment and aren't scanning the entire thread.

I made chicken-vegetable-barley soup yesterday. A LOT of it; we'll have it for lunch today, too. Vegetable stock with a bunch of deboned and deskinned chicken thighs cut into cubes. Then some of every vegetable we had in the house except potatoes. Right now I'm drinking Earl Gey with lemon and honey. I'm still a bit out of it from the hydrocodone last night, but I did sleep better.

Here's a truly heartwarming story about the bond formed between a little 5 year old girl and some construction workers that makes you believe that we CAN make a difference when we give a child the gift of our time...

A young family moved into a house, next door to a vacant lot. One day a construction crew turned up to start building a house on the empty lot. The young family's 5-year-old daughter naturally took an interest in all the activity going on next door and spent much of each day observing the workers.

Eventually the construction crew, all of them gems-in-the-rough, more or less adopted her as a kind of project mascot. They chatted with her, let her sit with them while they had coffee and lunch breaks, and gave her little jobs to do here and there to make her feel important.

At the end of the first week they even presented her with a pay envelope containing a couple of dollars. The little girl took this home to her mother who said all the appropriate words of admiration and suggested that they take the two dollar "pay" she had received to the bank the next day to start a savings account.

When they got to the bank, the teller was equally impressed and asked the little girl how she had come by her very own pay check at such a young age.

The little girl proudly replied, "I worked last week with the crew building the house next door to us."

"My goodness gracious," said the teller, "and will you be working on the house again this week, too?"

The little girl replied, "I will if those assholes at Home Depot ever deliver the fucking sheet rock..."

Ah, good ol' Rapaire, never so sick that he can't come up with a heart-warming shaggy dog story.

I made a pot of chicken stock and souped it up for dinner tonight. It tasted marvelous, and I made sure to leave a little chicken grease in it--that seems to be part of the "Jewish penicillin" of the soup. I can feel a tickle still, so will take some cough stuff tonight, but I think I can pass on the narcotics. I hope. It's coming on two weeks now of this stupid virus.

I should have used my neti pot more and sooner and maybe the sinus infection wouldn't have taken off like it did. You might want to use one, Rap.

Meanwhile, it's raining in Texas. It seems to be making up for the long drought over the winter. Inches and inches fell today. And out in the middle of it were my two dopey dogs, catching a native lizard AGAIN--this is the second time for this guy. They had him last week and he was playing dead, but I caught a look in his eye that said if I let him go he'd eventually move along. Idiot lizard moved into the same pile of rocks again. I saw Poppy out in the rain tossing and poking something, and dashed out to rescue my little friend. This time I BUILT him a new rock house closer to the fence where the dogs can't go because their collars will zap them. I have to move all of those rocks, and may have to do it sooner rather than later to save any wildlife at all that wants to remain in a yard with two big pups.

I stayed in all weekend and put up moldings on the walls. I really like this place, but why previous owners did such a half-assed job of different things is beyond me. Like the small kitchen -- the carpet was coved all around EXCEPT by the outside door, where I just installed baseboard molding. 30-some inches of molding to finish it off!

In ten days or two weeks the electricians are coming to install new lights. The current ones are not only inadequate, but energy inefficient.

I use nasal spray, both saline and the kind with steroids. I have the biggest and strongest nose on the block, but it can't be in the Olympics.